Little Boy Lost
by DiNozzos probie
Summary: Two months after Justin leaves for New York, Brian suddenly disappears without a word to anyone. Michael finally tracks him down, but is he too late to save Brian from himself and his feelings of abandonment? Contains adult content/language. May become slash in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: After a break I am back with my second story in the QaF fandom! I appreciate the warm welcome I received from everyone and the lovely support for "Birthday Revelations"!

This story takes place two months after Justin left for New York. Since I can't bear to watch the final episode, I honestly don't recall if everyone else knew about the house Brian bought. So, for the purposes of this story no one else knew about it.

Spoilers: Only if you don't know how the series ends!

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters or places depicted. I am making no money from this work of fiction, and no copyright infringement intended!

A very special thank you to my awesome friend MyShame7 for her advice, support, and guidance!

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"Little Boy Lost"

Chapter One:

"Jesus Christ, Brian! Where the fuck are you? We're all getting worried. Call me, okay?" Michael shouted into his phone before flipping it shut. He sighed and looked at his companions seated across from him in a booth at the Liberty Diner. "That's like my _hundredth_ voicemail and he hasn't called back. Christ, it's been four days!"

Ted and Emmett wore matching expressions full of concern as they picked at their lunches. Emmett reached across the table and patted Michael's hand. "He'll call when he's ready to talk, Sweetie. I just wonder where he could be," Emmett pondered, tapping his index finger on his bottom lip.

Ted snorted and stated forcefully, "Yeah, well, he better call soon. He has a major new client coming in next week and there is a shitload of stuff he needs to sign off on! Not to mention all of the contractors _I _lined up to rebuild Babylon. Brian needs to sign the work orders so they actually, you know, get to work on it!"

Michael glared at Ted. "Geez Ted, a little sympathy please? Brian's whole world just fell apart and all you can think about is work?"

Ted snapped back, "Yeah, well he's probably just off somewhere getting his dick sucked."

Michael was about to escalate the exchange when Debbie came over and sat next to him. She put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him over so she could kiss the top of his head.

"Still no luck, honey?" When Michael sadly shook his head she said, "He'll be fine. You know Brian. He always comes out on top. Just give him some time."

The bell over the door jingled signaling the arrival of a new customer, so Debbie stood to resume her duties behind the counter. She stopped when saw Jennifer Taylor walk in.

"Jennifer," Debbie exclaimed with a high-pitched squeal. "Come on over here! How are you? We never see you anymore! How's my little Sunshine? Is he coming home," Debbie questioned hopefully as she pulled Jennifer into a one-sided hug.

"Ma! Chill out already and let Mrs. Taylor talk," Michael admonished with an eye roll directed at his mother.

"It's okay, Michael," Jennifer said with a nod and a weak smile as she pulled away. She looked as though she had aged ten years in the two months since Justin moved to New York. "I, uh, was just in the neighborhood to drop off some papers for Brian but apparently he's not home, or at least he isn't answering the door."

"Papers? Papers for what," Emmett asked curiously.

"It's the new listing for his loft. I need him to approve it before it goes into the MLS system," Jennifer replied tiredly.

"Wait," Michael barked after nearly choking on the French fry he had just popped in his m mouth. "He's selling the loft? Why?"

Jennifer cocked her head and looked at Michael. Glancing at the others wearing the same shocked expression she said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you all knew," she said nervously. "When you see him, please have him call me. I've left several messages but he hasn't called back."

"You either," Debbie asked with a scowl. "Michael's been trying to get a hold of him all week. He hasn't been around, he hasn't called. No one knows where he is. It's like he just disappeared. _I'm_ actually getting worried about the little asshole!"

Seeing tears spring into Debbie's eyes, Jennifer dropped her head. "Have you tried the country house? He may be there."

"What country house?" Debbie, Michael, Ted, and Emmett demanded in unison.

Jennifer dropped down next to Michael and put her head in her hands. "He bought it a couple of months ago. It's a ten-acre estate, actually. Big house, pool, tennis court, stables." At their astonished looks she continued, "It was supposed to be a wedding present - for Justin."

When Michael grabbed his jacket from the back of the booth, Jennifer jumped up seeing that he was in a hurry. As he shrugged into it, he asked her, "Where is this place? I'm gonna go see if he's there."

Debbie handed Jennifer a blank order ticket and her feather pen. Jennifer sighed then jotted down the directions while explaining to Michael how to get there.

Michael snatched the paper from Jennifer's hand then turned to leave.

"You want us to go with you, sweetie," Emmett asked.

"Nah, that's okay. Ted needs to be here, and I should probably go alone anyway. I'll call you guys later," Michael called back over his shoulder as he pulled out his car keys and cell phone.

"You be careful," Debbie yelled to him as he pushed open the door. "Call me the minute you get there, whether Brian's there or not."

Michael climbed behind the wheel of the Durango he and Ben had bought the year before then called to let Ben know that he was going to find Brian. Ben had long made peace with Michael's attachment to Brian and gave his blessing to take as long as he needed. Ben assured Michael that he and Hunter would take care of the store during his absence. Michael hung up and drove off after exchanging "I love yous" with Ben.

A little over an hour later, after a quick stop home to pack for a couple of days just in case, Michael pulled the Durango to a stop on the crushed stone drive behind Brian's Corvette parked in front of the massive Tudor style house.

"Fuck me!" he muttered under his breath as he climbed out and took in the grandeur of the place.

Reaching the front door, Michael heard the muted but distinct sound of breaking glass. He hesitated just long enough to take a deep breath before firmly grasping the brass doorknob and turning it. The door was locked.

"Brian? It's Michael. Are you okay? Open up," he shouted before pounding on the door with his fist.

A few moments later the huge door was flung open and Michael gaped in horror at the man standing before him. Brian looked like he hadn't slept in days and the effects of heavy drinking was plainly evident in his bloodshot eyes and dull almost gray complexion. His unwashed hair was sticking up all over the place, his clothes were a wrinkled mess, and it was obvious that he hadn't showered or shaved in days.

"Jesus, Brian! Are you okay? Can I come in," Michael asked, stunned by how far his normally stylish and elegant best friend had fallen.

Brian took a swig out of what appeared to be a half full bottle of Jim Beam and threw the door open before turning away and shuffling barefoot across the marble floor into the spacious living room off of the cavernous entryway.

Michael's eyes scanned his surroundings as he slowly followed Brian. A sweeping solid oak curved grand staircase lead up to the second floor. Through towering French doors to his left was a library with shelves lined with hundreds of dusty old books. Straight ahead of him was a long hallway, which he assumed lead to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house. An identical set of French doors were opened into the living room to his right where Brian stood silently taking generous swigs from the bottle in his hand. Michael's eyes drifted to the polished oak plank floor in front of the fireplace where a makeshift bed was laid out.

"Why haven't you returned any of my calls? Fuck Brian, what are you doing all the way out here," Michael asked.

Brian just stared at Michael, his face expressionless, then slowly shrugged.

"Aren't you going to say anything," Michael demanded. "I drive all the way out here to find you, looking like shit I might add, and you won't even talk to me?"

"Whadya wan me to say," Brian finally asked tiredly, his speech slurred from the effects of the alcohol.

Michael closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh before crossing over to where Brian stood absently staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace. He took the bottle from Brian's hand without much resistance, twisted the cap back on, and set it on the mantle. Slouched and swaying drunkenly before him was not the beautiful confident, cocky, arrogant, self-absorbed man he had known more than half of his life. Instead before him stood a six-foot two tall sad, lost little boy. He had seen the hurt in Brian's eyes when Justin chose Ethan over him a few years ago, but that was nothing compared to the utterly destroyed man before him. Brian had been a master at hiding and denying his true feelings and emotions, but Michael could always see through it.

He took Brian's face in his hands and said, "I want you to tell me why you're selling your loft and why you came all the way out here in the middle of nowhere," Michael said softly. "Talk to me, Brian."

Brian flashed a defiant smirk at Michael and replied with a soft-spoken but menacing, "Fuck. You." He then jerked out of Michael's grasp and staggered over to retrieve the bottle. The cap spun off with such force that it rolled halfway across the room. Brian chuckled as he watched it roll away, then turned to Michael and shouted, "Now get the fuck out of my house and leave me the fuck alone!"

Michael stood there stunned and gaped at his best friend, who in reality was more like a brother to him. Having dealt with dozens of Hunter's angry outbursts and tantrums, Michael knew it was tough love time if he was going to get Brian to talk to him.

"No. You are gonna put the bottle down, go up and take a fucking shower, and then you and I are gonna talk," Michael said firmly while trying to keep his emotions in check. "I'm not leaving until we do."

Brian huffed at him in disgust and with a petulant tone said, "Fine. Whatever it takes to get you to leave."

Michael didn't flinch as Brian shouldered his way past him and headed for the stairs. "And shave while you're at it. You look like shit," he yelled at Brian's retreating form on the stairs, getting flipped off for his trouble.

When Michael heard the shower running upstairs he headed down the hallway from the front foyer and into the huge gourmet kitchen. The house was stately and likely a hundred years old, but the last owner had definitely spent untold thousands of dollars to modernize and restore it. The kitchen had been remodeled with granite countertops, newer maple cabinets and all new state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances.

He opened the refrigerator and was relieved to find it fairly well stocked. He noticed a few grocery bags sitting on the granite-topped island and pulled out a loaf of bread and a bag of potato chips. It was obvious that Brian was planning to stay for a while at least since he had stocked up on food.

By the time the water upstairs shut off, Michael had a simple dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and chips prepared. He heard Brian's bare feet slowly padding down the hall toward him as he set the plates and bowls at the long breakfast bar and retrieved two bottles of water from the refrigerator.

"I fixed us some dinner. I hope you're hungry," Michael said with a smile.

"Not really," Brian grumbled as he pulled out one of the bar stools and sat down with a sigh.

"You gotta eat something, Brian. You can't live on booze alone." The shitty attitude was still in place, but Brian at least looked and smelled better after showering, shaving, and changing into clean clothes.

"M'not living. Just waiting to die," Brian stated simply as he absently dunked half of his sandwich into the soup before taking a small bite. He frowned at the ancient memories of eating this very meal on a fairly regular basis with Michael at Debbie's kitchen table.

From years of experience, Michael knew that getting into a heavy discussion with Brian when he was in such a dark headspace would get him nowhere. Brian had such a stubborn streak that Michael feared he would completely shut down or worse he would try to leave. No, it was best to at least make sure he ate something and sobered up a bit then _maybe _they could talk.

When they finished eating, Michael rinsed their plates and bowls then left them in the sink to be dealt with later. He figured he would wash them after getting Brian to lie down and get some sleep. Pulling a still wobbly Brian to his feet, Michael gently steered him back out to the living room.

The fire was still blazing in the fireplace giving the room a warm and cozy feel despite the vaulted ceilings and huge plate glass windows. Pointing down at the comfy looking pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, Michael ordered Brian to get some sleep. Brian responded by flipping him off again, but within a couple of minutes he was snoring softly. Michael pulled one of the blankets out from under Brian's legs and pulled it up to cover him. As he tucked Brian in, it wasn't lost on him how their roles had changed over the last few years.

Michael returned to the kitchen and washed up the few dishes and pans he had used, leaving them to dry in the rack next to the sink. He then put the rest of the groceries away before setting off to explore the gigantic house. A clock in the library chimed 7:00. Brian would hopefully be out for several hours, so Michael stepped outside to make a couple of phone calls. The only light was a gas lamp near the driveway and a full moon overhead.

"Yeah Ma, it's me. Look, do me a favor and let everyone know I found Brian. He's safe but he's a fucking mess. I may end up being here for a couple of days," Michael said forlornly before giving Debbie a full rundown of the day's events.

Debbie sounded pleased that he had at least gotten Brian to eat something and get some sleep.

"He always loved dunking grilled cheeses into tomato soup," she said trying to sound cheerful. "You try and get him to talk then you bring his skinny ass home where he belongs. His family is here, and we will take care of him. You tell him that. Do you hear me, Michael," she demanded forcefully.

"Yeah, I hear you," Michael shouted back. "Look, I'm gonna call Ben and let him know what's going on. I need to go check on Brian then I'm gonna check out the rest of the house. You should see this place, Ma! It's a fucking palace!"

Michael counted four large bedrooms each with its own attached bathroom upstairs in the guest wing of the house. A narrower staircase at the end of the long hallway led up to a third level, which Michael assumed was the attic. He made a mental note to ask Brian.

The main wing housed an enormous a master suite complete with two separate dressing rooms and gigantic walk-in closets. The enormous luxury bathroom was a gay man's dream come true! The marble-topped vanity with its double sinks, cabinets and shelves took up one whole wall. The glass enclosed shower with dual shower heads probably had plenty of room for six people, as could the deep marble surrounded Jacuzzi bathtub. The real prize, however, was the ten foot by ten foot cedar steam room. A sitting room and a private study were down the hall.

It was late by the time Michael completed a cursory inspection of the library. As expected, many of the books were first editions of well-known classics. God only knew how much they were worth to collectors. He doubted Brian cared or had any desire to read any of them. The library doubled as a billiard room complete with red-felted antique pocket pool table and an impressive wet bar.

When he finished checking out the house, Michael curled up on a settee in the massive but mostly unfinished main living room to get a few hours of sleep. He awoke several hours later to a loud groan in response to the chimes of an antique grandfather's clock. The bright early morning sunlight streaming in through the large windows on the east side of the house was a secondary cause of the loud groaning. He looked at the writhing mound cocooned under the pile of blankets on the floor. _"Well, at least he's still alive,"_ Michael thought to himself before rolling off of the settee and stretching to alleviate the kinks in his back from sleeping on the small couch that was easily a foot too short for his five-foot ten inch tall frame.

"Brian, you awake," Michael asked in hushed tones as he leaned over Brian's prone body. "I'm gonna make coffee."

Brian slowly peeled back the blanket covering his face and leveled a bleary one-eyed glare at Michael. "What the fuck are you still doing here?" he demanded as he reached for his pack of cigarettes that had been lying on the floor next to him and pulled one out. In his extremely hung-over condition operating his Zippo lighter proved to be too much of a task to bother with. He disgustedly threw the cigarette a few feet and dropped the lighter next to the nearly full ashtray.

Taking pity on his incapacitated friend, Michael lit a cigarette for him before heading for the kitchen. Brian took a couple of drags before pulling himself up into a sitting position with his knees pulled up to his chest. He groaned again at the pounding in his head; the ache in his head matching the ache he felt in his heart. A few minutes later he got up and shuffled his way to the kitchen, yawning and stretching with each slow step.

Brian snorted at the sight of a big glass of water and two Advil sitting on the breakfast bar as if they were waiting for him. He glanced up and watched as Michael, seemingly making himself right at home, pulled two coffee mugs down from a cupboard next to the sink. Brian sat on the bar stool he had used last night and chased the Advil down with the entire glass of water. He sat the empty glass down and picked up the steaming mug of strong black coffee that Michael placed in front of him.

"You want some breakfast? I can whip up a couple of omelets," Michael offered tentatively. He took the raised eyebrow and sneer leveled at him in response as a definite "No".

After several minutes spent drinking their coffee in silence, Brian finally spoke up in a resigned tone. "Mikey, why are you here?"

Michael couldn't believe what he was hearing. Incredulous at the ridiculous question, he barked, "Why am I here? Why the fuck do you think? Everyone's worried about you, Brian! You leave town for a week without a word to anyone, blow off work, and blow off your friends. We keep calling but you never answer. You must have a thousand voicemails by now. For fuck's sake, my mother is even getting worried! Ted is freaking out about some new client and contractors, and Jennifer has some papers for you to sign."

Seeing a hint of contrition creep into Brian's bloodshot eyes, Michael said, "Okay, my turn. You wanna tell me why you bought this huge fucking house out in the middle of no-goddam-where and why you're not selling _it _instead of your loft. I mean, Justin's mom said something about it being a wedding present."

Brian shrugged and for a minute Michael thought he was going to cry. "Bri, talk to me," Michael plead softly. "I just want to help."

His head no longer pounding thanks to the combination of Advil and strong coffee, Brian placed his empty mug on the counter then stood and shouted, "Help? You want to fucking help? This is all _your_ goddam fault! All of you fucked me over, so I don't want your fucking help! What I _do _want is for you to get out of my fucking house and leave me ALONE," Brian bellowed before storming out the back door, slamming it shut with such force that the antique leaded glass window rattled.

Michael stood frozen in place as Brian's words slowly sank in. It struck him that the grief Brian was suffering over losing Justin paled in comparison to his anger. Brian's anger was not directed at Justin; it had been a mutual decision to call off their wedding, but instead it was squarely aimed at Michael and everyone else he had once considered a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: A big thank you for the reviews! To the "guest" reviewer - Amen!

So sorry for the long delay in updating **_and_ **for this chapter being so short. Work, family commitments, and a bunch of other things going on doesn't leave nearly enough time for writing! I will do my best to post the next chapter shortly. As a reader myself, I _hate_ long delays in stories I follow! Again, my sincere apologies!

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters or places. I am making no money from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement intended.

Warning: I do not have a beta, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

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Ch 2:

_Michael stood frozen in place as Brian's words slowly sank in. It struck him that the grief Brian was suffering over losing Justin paled in comparison to his anger. Brian's anger was not directed at Justin; it had been a mutual decision to call off their wedding, but instead it was squarely aimed at Michael and everyone else he had once considered a friend._

Unsure what to do, Michael stepped out onto the expansive multi-tiered brick patio to call Ben for advice. Brian's explosive reaction had rattled him more than he wanted to admit. He was used to Brian spouting off with sarcasm and anger; that was the Brian Kinney he knew and loved. Arrogance and attitude mixed with stunning good looks and charm made him the envy of all. However, the emotional trainwreck Michael had spent the last several hours with was a complete stranger to him.

Zipping his thin nylon windbreaker up to his chin in an attempt to ward off the damp morning chill, he sat on the porch swing hanging from the pergola overhead and pushed speed dial one for home. Ben answered on the third ring with a jaw-cracking yawn, and Michael smiled as he pictured his husband lying in their bed, naked and likely sporting impressive morning wood.

Any other time Michael would have been up for some impromptu phone sex, but now was not the time or the place. After several minutes of typical good morning chit-chat, Michael turned serious and sought Ben's advice on how to deal with Brian. He abruptly ended the call several minutes later when he saw Brian lazily strolling slowly toward the house out of the corner of his eye. He said nothing as Brian climbed the steps and sat next to him on the swing, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy and his shoulders slumped. Michael's heart broke for his best friend, but he was at a loss what to say or do.

Brian had obviously been crying, which was something Michael had only witnessed once or twice before. He had always felt oddly honored that his best friend for over half of his life would let his guard down around him and show his vulnerability. Michael silently prayed that Brian would honor him once again. Gone, at least for the moment, was the explosive anger, which had been replaced with a profound melancholy. Michael waited patiently knowing that Brian would not talk until he was damn good and ready. The silence was deafening.

"Why, Mikey," Brian finally asked with a gravelly, emotion-choked voice.

Michael's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why what?"

Brian turned his head and looked into Michael's soft brown doe eyes. With a hint of lingering resentment and sadness he asked, "Why did you all tell me to send him away?"

"Justin? We didn't. We just ...".

"BULLSHIT!" Brian bellowed. He suddenly stood and began pacing, repeatedly running both hands through his hair. His agitation grew with each step as his anger returned with a vengeance. Brian's eyes were feral and his posture dangerous.

Michael swallowed hard and sat wide-eyed, too stunned to move or speak. The last time Brian was this pissed at him, Michael ended up with a seriously bruised jaw. Ben's advice to just let Brian vent and rage ran through his mind. He knew that getting defensive or arguing would get him nowhere, so he sat quietly and waited.

After several moments of furious pacing, Brian dropped down onto the low stone wall enclosing the patio and took a few deep calming breaths. After wiping angry tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. Taking a long drag, he looked across the patio at Michael through narrowed eyes and a thick cloud of smoke.

"Everyone got their happily ever after - except me. For five _fucking_ years you all tried to convince me that I loved Justin. For five _fucking_ years everyone kept telling me it was time to grow up and commit. For five _fucking_ years I had to watch as you all did what and who you wanted. Now, you're a little suburban housewife married to Zen Ben, and you've got the whole little family thing going. I've got fucking _nothing_!" Brian stated coolly before standing and pacing again.

"Brian, that's not …," Michael began to say before being interrupted again.

Brian shook his head and took another drag from his cigarette. His previous cool restraint was gone, replaced with bitter disdain.

"And then when I finally _do_ admit it, admit that I love Justin and vow to spend the rest of my life with him, you all tell me to let him go, to let him run off to New York and make a big name for himself. Fuck, then to top it off Lindsey takes _my_ _son_ and moves to fucking Canada! Now the two most important people in my whole fucking life are gone. You _all_ made sure of that. Then _you_ make me re-open the fucking club like that's going to make everything all better. You know, get the old Brian back? Well, newsflash, asshole, that Brian is dead!"

Michael jumped to his feet and attempted to stammer out a reasonable explanation only to have Brian round on him menacingly.

"Just – leave, Mikey. I don't want you here and I don't need you here," Brian muttered with icy cold detachment before turning and walking away, throwing the butt of his cigarette into the dew-covered grass.

"No," Michael shouted when he caught up to Brian and grabbed his arm. "It's your turn to listen to me, asshole! I'll leave if that's what you want, but you are going to fucking hear me out first!"

Brian shot a murderous glare then jabbed a finger in the center of Michael's chest. "Fuck you," he growled before shouldering his way past him and running toward the house.

"Fuck," Michael yelled in frustration. Taking a few minutes to get his thoughts in order, he slowly made his way back to the house only to find the back door leading into the kitchen locked. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. It was time to call in the cavalry.

Three hours later, Michael sat in the Durango at the entrance to the private gravel drive and watched a familiar car approach leaving a cloud of dust billowing in its wake. He let out a heavy sigh, thankful that reinforcements had finally arrived. Halfway up the winding drive, Michael pulled over and Ted stopped just behind him.

"Babe, you okay," Ben asked as he climbed out of the front passenger seat and ran to Michael pulling him into a hug.

Michael held on tight and reveled in being wrapped up in Ben's strong arms. He opened his eyes to find Ted and Emmett looking at him wearing matching concerned expressions.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Michael said tiredly as he was released from the embrace. "I'm just glad you guys are here. I don't know what the fuck to do."

Emmett stepped up and ran a hand down Michael's arm. "It'll be okay, Sweetie."

Ted shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and asked, "Jesus, Michael, what happened? Is Brian okay? He didn't hit you again, did he?"

Michael cracked a sad smile remembering back to the day Brian clocked him and knocked him out cold at Melanie and Lindsey's party.

"No, thank God. Look guys, he is pissed at all of us, and I mean _really_ pissed. Blames _all_ of us for Justin leaving. He locked me out, so that's why I called you." He then turned to Ben and asked, "Hey, where's Ma? I thought she was coming with you?"

"Debbie's on her way here with Jennifer. She's pretty upset. They both are," Ben replied.

Michael nodded. His mother may be brash and opionated, but when it came to Brian she had a way of getting through to him. Brian's own mother had always been cold and distant, so Debbie had made a point over the years of providing the motherly love and support that had been absent his whole life. She was tough, combative, and held back nothing when she spoke her mind, but she also had a tender and caring side and doted over all of "her boys" as if they were all her sons.

As the group slowly walked toward the house, Michael got them all up to speed on the events of the last 24 hours. When they came around the curve, the house came into view and a chorus of excited gasps rang out.

"Oh my God," Emmett declared, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as he took in the grandeur of the place. The house and grounds that he could see were on par with George's palacial estate. Emmett smiled at the memory of his late friend and benefactor. "This place is incredible!"

Ted stood gaping in shock until he finally managed to squeak out a pronounced, "Holy shit!"

Ben's chuckle was followed by an appreciative whistle. "Wow, Brian bought this place? Must have cost a fortune."

"Yeah. It was actually his wedding present to Justin," Michael answered sadly before rolling his eyes. "There's a huge pool, tennis court, stables and a paddock out back. I don't know how he can afford it."

"Oh, he can afford it all right," Ted announced. "Big name clients have been pouring in. Plus, selling his loft and Babylon should ...," he trailed off when Michael shrieked.

"What," Michael barked turning to face Ted. "He's selling Babylon? He just rebuilt it! It's like, like, a second home. Why the fuck would he sell it now?"

"Sweetie, think about it. People died that night. You were badly hurt and Justin could have been," Emmett replied calmly. "Maybe Brian _has_ changed? Miracles _do_ happen."

Michael dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. "That's what he said this morning. He said the old Brian is dead. Fuck, maybe he's right. Maybe this is all our fault."

"Michael, Brian and Justin calling off their wedding was a mutual decision. We had nothing to do with it," Ben stated.

Shaking his head and shrugging, Michael replied, "I don't know. You weren't here last night and this morning. He thinks he's lost everything. Justin moving away then Mel and Linds taking Gus to Toronto? Ben, you and me buying the house and adopting Hunter?" Turning to Emmett and Ted he continued, "And you two with your new relationships? We all have what Brian _finally_ wants, someone to love who loves us back, a home, a family, but now he's all alone."

The four men exchanged looks of sorow and shared shame until the silence was broken.

"Are you assholes just going to stand out here talking about me all fucking day, or do you want to come in," Brian shouted dismissively from the front doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review this story. This is the final chapter, but an epilogue will follow.

Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters or locations. I am making no money from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement intended.

Warning: No beta, so please forgive any typos. I try to catch them all, but sometimes I miss a few! :)

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CH 3:

Brian felt like a stranger in his own house. Even with his so-called friends there it sure as hell didn't feel like a home, and it probably never would. He knew damn well that Ben, Ted, and Emmett didn't just drive all the way just to shoot the breeze. Nope, more than likely he was about to become the focus of an impromptu intervention. He was surprised but incredibly grateful that Debbie, de factor mother to all the queers on Liberty Avenue, hadn't made the trip.

He was slightly amused by the reactions of Ted and Emmett to seeing the grand house for the first time. While Ben for the most part looked unimpressed, Emmett carefully perused the entryway and the living room taking in every minute detail. Every couple of minutes he would stop when something particular caught his eye, and with his arms crossed would tap on his lower lip with his left index finger. Where the small spiral-bound notebook and feather pen Emmett produced came from Brian couldn't say, but he suddenly had a sinking feeling that he was in for some serious unsolicited decorating tips from the biggest queen he had ever known.

Brian snorted at Ted's expression as he followed Emmett's path, knowing that the little accountant in his head was hard at work tallying the enormous expenses that would be incurred with first decorating and furnishing then maintaining the huge old house.

Ben and Michael exchanged muted whispers as they stood together and watched Brian. Michael suggested that it was up to Ben and his calm, reasonable demeanor to draw Brian out and hopefully talk some sense into him. Ben took a deep breath and favored Michael with a curt nod. It was time for Phase One of "Operation Save Brian".

Michael cleared his throat and made his way over to Ted and Emmett, who were squabbling over something Emmett had jotted down in his notebook. Ted was chastising Emmett for his ridiculous notions concerning gaudy theater-style velvet drapes, while Emmett shot back that Ted was too conservative. If left unchecked, the debate over their polar opposite decorating styles could and likely would go on for hours.

"Hey guys, how about I give you a tour? That okay with you," Michael turned and asked their host with a raised questioning eyebrow and an abundance of caution. The hand blindly waved at him in disinterested dismissal was Brian's only response.

Michael's voice faded as the trio disappeared and headed toward the kitchen leaving Brian glaring pointedly at Ben. Perturbed and feeling on the defensive, Brian turned to his go-to weapon - sarcasm. His eyes were flashing with anger as he sauntered over to Ben until they were mere inches apart.

"Something on your mind, Professor," he asked, his tone dripping with disdain. "Let me guess, little Mikey figured you'd get all Zen and make it all better. Well let me tell you that I am fine. I don't need your help, or theirs, so you can all just get back in your cars and go back to the Pitts."

Not willing to be baited into and pointless argument, Ben remained stoic. "We're all worried about you Brian, that's all. I know it's been rough since Justin packed up and left, but we're still your friends. We just want to help," he stated simply.

"Help? You assholes are the reason Justin left," Brian nearly shouted.

Placing a hand in the middle of Brian's chest, Ben slowly backed him up until the backs of his knees hit the small settee. Brian fell onto the seat and glared up at Ben, who now loomed over him like a giant. Ben sat down next to him, and for the next half an hour listened with rapt attention as Brian sorrowfully revealed the true depth of his pain. It didn't take a trained professional to see that the normally cocky, arrogant, selfish Brian Kinney was suffering from a broken heart.

"I mean, fuck! I'm used to people walking out of my life, and I never fucking care when they do. That's why I never do – did – the whole "boyfriend" thing," he said, adding air quotes for emphasis.

Ben snorted and shook his head. "That's because you never loved anyone before – until Justin. It's different now. Brian, one-night-stands and quick fucks in the backroom at Babylon aren't relationships. There's no emotional attachment, but five years having Justin in your life? Hell yes! Your grieving, Brian, so let it happen. For the first time in your life someone you actually loved, whether you want to admit it or not, left you. Been there enough times myself to know that it fucking hurts like hell, but shutting yourself off from the world is not the answer. Let those of us who are still here, who love you and care about you, help you get through it."

Brian blinked at Ben a few times before barking out a laugh. "Ah, there's the Zen Ben I know so well. So tell me, Professor Bruckner, when the fuck does it stop hurting?"

This was a breakthrough. Ben was stunned by Brian's admission that he was genuinely hurt. Offering a shrug he replied, "It doesn't, but it gets easier over time. Best thing to do, find someone new. Move on and try to love again." Ben paused for a moment before taking a chance and saying more forecefullu, "Or – get off your ass and fight like hell to get Justin back."

Brian's wide eyes in response would have been comical under different circumstances. He gaped at Ben for several long moments as he tried to determine if Ben was bullshitting him, or if he was serious. The slight smile and warm eyes assessing him told him it was the latter.

* * *

Upstairs, Emmett clutched his chest repeatedly as he took in the granduer of each new room. As expected, the master suite drew the loudest and longest gasp.

"Oh ... my ... GOD," Emmett exclaimed, fanning himself and fully in queen mode. "I think I have just died and gone to gay heaven."

Ted shot an incredulous look at Emmett that went completely ignored as he began a thorough exploration of the closets and dressing rooms that combined had almost as much square footage as his whole apartment.

"How is Brian, really," Ted asked Michael. "He doesn't look so hot."

Michael sat on the huge king-sized bed with a sigh. "I don't know Teddy. He's better than he was yesterday. God, you should have seen him. He was stumbling drunk and smelled like stale booze and smoke. He hadn't shaved in days. I thought once he showered, shaved and slept it off he'd be okay, but man - he really went off on me this morning! That's why I called you guys. Glad you're here."

Ted sat next to Michael and patted his knee. "He'll get over it, once he's back in his element."

Micheal shook his head. "I don't think so. He's not the same guy. You saw how he was after the explosion. It took that to make him realize that he actually fucking loved Justin. Now, he blames all of us for Justin moving to New York."

Ted shrugged. "We all thought it was best, didn't we? I mean, they called it off."

"Yeah, I guess," Michael said as he stood and stretched. "Come on. I'm going to go fix us all something to eat. You go find Emmett."

Michael reached the kitchen and began perusing the meager offerings in the fridge and pantry. He was about to go out an announce that a trip into the nearest town was in order when he heard soft voices coming through the open kitchen door. He hazarded a peek out and saw Ben and Brian sitting on the swing talking. How Ben managed to keep a conversation going with Brian for nearly an hour was a mystery to be solved later. He was about to interrupt when he heard an all-too loud, familiar voice come from the front of the house.

"Where's the fucking kitchen," Debbie bellowed. A pair of muffled voices answered in unison.

"Hi Honey," Debbie announced with a huge smile as she carried countless bags of groceries into the kitchen. Seeing Michael she dropped them on the kitchen table before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. "Are you all right? Brian didn't fucking hit you again did he? Where is our charming host anyway?"

"Shhh, Ma! Keep it down will 'ya? He's outside with Ben. There talking. I think Ben is talking some sense into him," he mumbled in protest into the garish red wig that threatened to suffocate him. It wasn't until she finally released him that he noticed Jennifer was standing in the doorway - with Justin.

Michael broke away from Debbie then scampered over and quietly closed the kitchen door. "Justin! Jesus Christ! What are you doing here," he asked in hushed tones, shocked by this stunning revelation.

Justin stepped back as Michael advanced. Jennifer stepped in and said defensively, "I called him yesterday. I didn't realize how badly Brian was hurting. I don't think any of us do. It was Justin's idea to come here."

Ted as finally able to drag Emmett downstairs and they both stopped in their tracks when they saw Justin.

"Oh sweetie, come here and let old Em see you," Emmett greeted, arms open in invitation. Justin accepted the embrace and smiled when Emmett began rocking him back and forth.

"Hey Em," Justin chuckled. Ted stepped in to pry Emmett off of him. "Hey Teddy."

"Justin. You're looking well. A bit thinner, but well," Ted with an unexpectedly cool tone. Since he had been taken into Brian's confidence during his convalescence he had grown rather protective of his boss, who he considered a friend even if the sentiment wasn't reciprocated.

"Where is he," Justin asked cautiously, standing as tall as he could to convey a confidence that he really didn't possess. He hadn't expected a brass band welcome, but it was painfully obvious that only Emmett was glad to see him.

Michael glared at Justin then jerked his head toward the door. "He's outside. Ben is talking to him, trying to reason with him. You know, Brian is a fucked up mess because of you," Michael stated through grit teeth.

Debbie broke the growing icy tension by getting right in the middle of the group. "Tell you what, Jennifer and I are going to fix you boys a nice dinner. Michael, go tell Brian that he has a visitor, then I want all of you leave them the fuck alone so they can talk."

Smiling at Justin, she took his face in her hands and said softly, "Sunshine, he's hurting. Be kind to him."

"I will Deb."

Michael opened the kitchen door and called out to Ben. "Honey, can you come here for a minute. Need your help getting something down." It was a lie, of course, but Ben complied dutifully.

Genuinely pleased to see Justin, Ben smiled and silently motioned for him to go out and take his place on the swing with Brian. Justin reached the door then paused briefly and shot Ben a questioning look. Ben's affirmative nod was all the confirmation he needed. Once Ben closed the door, a collective breath was held as everyone waited for the inevitable explosion.

* * *

Justin hesitated before clearing his throat. Brian was looking down at his feet and didn't notice the new arrival. When he finally looked up, shock, anger, regret, and sadness all flashed in his eyes like some cosmic slide show. Justin steeled himself for the rejection and a shouted demand to go the fuck away he fully expected.

"Hello, Brian," Justin said softly as he slowly moved to stand in front of the swing.

Brian had to blink a few times, certain that the blonde standing before him was an apparition. Maybe Ben used some secret Zen magic to conjure up Justin's spirit just to fuck with him. He snorted at the idea, but how else would Justin be standing there?

Justin was unnerved by the disbelieving look on Brian's face. He sat next to him on the swing and placed his hand on Brian's leg. He saw Brian close his eyes and swallow hard at the contact.

"What are you doing here," Brian asked in a tone much softer than he normally did when Justin showed up unexpectedly.

"I missed you, and it sounds like you missed me too. Brian, we need to talk, but not here."

Brian nodded and stood. "Let's walk. I never got to show you around," Brian replied.

From the large kitchen window, Michael and the others watched as Brian and Justin walked side by side across the expansive back lawn toward the stables. Emmett placed his hand over his heart when he saw Brian take Justin's hand in his.

* * *

"Well where the fuck are they? Dinner's almost ready," Debbie demanded after nearly an hour passed.

Ben approached his mother-in-law and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "We'll keep their plates warm for them. They have a lot to talk about."

Deb smacked on the big wad of gum in her mouth and turned to Ben. "What the hell did you say to him anyway?"

Ben shrugged. "Just to grieve and move on, or fight to get Justin back. He's scared, Deb."

Ted and Emmett set the dining room table using the fine China and cut crystal stem ware the previous owner had left behind. The red linen tablecloth Emmett found needed an ironing, but it would suffice. Jennifer and Michael polished the sterling silverware they had discovered in the buffett. The velvet lined box contained service for 24 but they only took out forks, knives and spoons for eight.

In true Grassi/Novotny fashion, Debbie had prepared enough food to feed a small army. While Ben grilled marinated New York strip steaks, Debbie made garlic mashed potatoes, roasted asparagus with a raspberry glaze, cut and chopped all of the ingredients for a huge bowl of salad, and put two frozen pies, apple and pecan, in the oven.

Just as the six guests took their seats around the long oak table, Justin and Brian appeared in the archway. Ben circled the table filling each wine glass but stopped in mid-pour when he saw them. Their expressions gave nothing away, but he saw a new light in Brian's eyes.

Debbie was about to bark, "Well it's about fucking time," but Jennifer's pointed look and pat on the arm was a request to keep quiet.

Brian and Justin stood at the head of the table and exchanged smiles. The room was silent as the nervous tension grew. Justin nudged Brian, who cleared his parched throat. He picked up the nearest glass of wine and took a sip. There was so much he needed to say, to everyone. Seeing Michael's sad doe eyes looking at and assessing him, he knew where he needed to start.

"Thank you all for being here. I'm sorry I took off and made you worry. I know I was a complete shit to you Mikey, and I'm sorry for that too. I was angry at everyone, and honestly I still am. When I first met Justin, he was just another trick. I never thought I would see him again - never planned to. I made a lot of mistakes and did everything I could to push him away. You all tried to convince me that I was scared and afraid to let myself love him. And you were right. It took the explosion to make me realize that I did - that I do love him. Everything changed that night. I vowed to change. I decided it was finally time to grow the fuck up."

Brian pulled out chairs for himself and Justin. He had so much more to say. With all eyes on him, he continued.

"Everyone and everything changed. Mel and Linds moved and took Gus away from me. I know I wasn't much of a father to him, but he is my son and I do love him. I miss him more than I thought I would. Mikey, you and Ben moved out to the 'burbs. Bought a home and made plans to adopt Hunter. The rest of you started new relationships. I has already decided I was finally ready to commit, so I bought this place - for Justin. I wanted to show him, in my own fucked up way, how much I wanted a life with him."

The emotions swirling through Brian were becoming overwhelming. The anger was coming back to the surface and he fought to tamp it down. Justin leaned in and whispered encouragement.

"It's okay, Brian. Tell them."

Brian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He grabbed Justin's hand, needing to connect with him and draw strength from him.

"That was when you all told me to let Justin go, that I was keeping him from living his dream of becoming a successful artist. None of you believed in me. You all thought I was full of shit because, as we all know, Brian Kinney isn't good for anything but a quick fuck. He can build a successful company, survive cancer, and rebuild a fucking club, but he isn't capable of loving anyone. Well, I'm here to tell you that you were wrong. Good old Zen Ben gave me some advice today. He told me to go ahead and grieve, to deal with it and move on - or, to fight like hell and get Justin back."

Brian turned his attention to his glass of wine and left his statement hanging in the air. Justin took that as his cue.

"First, I'm starved so let's eat. This looks awesome, Deb, so let's eat before it gets cold," Justin instructed. After several minutes of dished being passed around the table everyone began to eat, grateful for the break in the tension. They ate in silence for a while until Ted, surprisingly, spoke up.

"So, what now," he asked.

Justin put down his fork, wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, and sat up straight in his chair. When all eyes fell on him, he spoke.

"I'm coming home. A made a few contacts in New York at a couple of galleries. One has offered me a show this fall. A new artist's promotion. I was introduced to some advertising people who are interested in my computer graphics. I did what I needed to do there, but I realized that I can draw and paint anywhere. New York is a great city, but my muse is here," he said with affection as he looked at Brian and squeezed his hand.

"Brian needs me, and I need him. These past couple of months have been an adventure, but they've been the lonliest months of my life. Pittsburg is my home, it's where I belong. We still have a lot to talk about and have some decisions to make, but Brian and I want to be together. This time, for all the right reasons."

To everyone's surprise, Michael stood and pulled Justin from his seat and hugged him. Debbie, Jennifer, and Emmett used their napkins to dab away happy tears, while Ben and Ted sat and smiled approvingly. When Michael released Justin, he moved onto Brian, hugging him for all he was worth.

Around a sob, Michael said, "I'm so sorry Brian. I've been an idiot. I hope you both will forgive me."

Brian chuckled when he had Michael at arm's length again. "Mikey, you are so pathetic." Michael laughed at the all-too familiar affectionate put down.

Ben took the opportunity to stand and raise his glass. "A toast. To Brian and Justin. May they find their way."

"Here, here," Debbie bellowed. "Now, who wants seconds?"

The mood around the table was lighter during the remainder of dinner. Conversation turned to stories about the new relationships that began in Justin's absence. Seeing that his mother was truly happy, Justin had made peace with Jennifer's relationship. He didn't approve of her being involved with a much younger man, but she was happy and that's what really mattered.

The few leftovers were stored in the fridge and the dishes were washed, dried and put away. It was approaching 8:00 and a decision had to be made. Even though it was the weekend now, everyone save for Brian and Justin had commitments and responsibilities back home. Brian assured Ted that he would be back in the office in a few days, and until then he was in charge.

While Brian signed some new contracts that Ted had brought with him, Debbie pulled Justin aside for some unsolicited motherly advice. "Sunshine, don't think that jumping into bed is going to fix anything. You two take your time, and talk."

Justin grinned and kissed her on the cheek. "I know Deb. We want to make sure we want the same thing. I love him though, and he loves me."

"That's a good start," Debbie said affectionately as she patted his cheek.

Hugs and handshakes were exchanged as everyone filed out the front door and got into their respective cars. Jennifer returned and sat Justin's suitcase at Brian's feet.

"I love you both. You know that, right? And I'm proud of you. Take care of each other," she said before bestowing kisses on their cheeks. "We'll talk soon."

"Bye Mom. Give us a couple of days, okay?"

The parade of cars drove off leaving Brian and Justin standing hand in hand. Brian turned to Justin, who looked back him with abject adoration. Feeling more nervous than he could ever remember, Brian asked timidly, "So now what?"

"Kiss me, Brian."


End file.
